


Simmer

by Gairid, Leshan



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5090951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gairid/pseuds/Gairid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshan/pseuds/Leshan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestat finds his hunger piqued by Brian in more than one way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The night was exquisitely warm, tempered by a generous breeze off the Gulf. This sort of night in September saved me after the long, stagnant heat of summer that Louis preferred. As the three of us sat in the side parlor the scent of the ocean carried on the wind that lifted the curtains in a teasing dance; Brian and Louis were engaged in conversation on miscellaneous current events, peppered with alternating laughter and interjection over continued political idiocy in the city. As for me, I was hungry.

Shortly after we’d awoken, Brian had joined us and while he was generally in a pleasant and upbeat mood, tonight he was positively radiant and I found his energy to be powerfully attractive. He recounted meeting up with some people he’d only spoken to before as casual acquaintances and with deeper conversation they realized they had a shared interest in music. Their evening had culminated in a jam session at one of the few bars that remained mysteriously free of tourists. Brian had borrowed someone’s fiddle and, he said, even been confident enough to sing for the small but appreciative crowd.

I took in the sight of Louis as he’d listened; Sometimes I wondered if he realized how clearly his love for this mortal man appeared to me. He was a seamless, fascinating blend of lover, father, brother and friend, absorbing the details with his usual attentiveness; the smile on his face was so genuine it brought a gentle ache to my heart. I had looked at many mortals in such a manner, but aside from the whole other circumstance of Claudia, my beloved Louis had loved few in the way he loved his dear Mr. Callahan.

With that thought, my gaze settled upon Brian. He had become deeply tanned over the spring and summer from landscaping the courtyard, insistent on doing the project himself instead of hiring contractors that according to him wouldn’t do the job to my satisfaction. Several times I’d awoken just before the last rays of daylight slipped away and stood on the balcony that ran above the pool to watch him work. Shirtless, he’d lifted and placed the large decorative rocks to frame the corners then spread the dark mulch perfectly around each one.

I recalled that image as he leaned forward, his attention more fully engaged as Louis pointed out the hypocrisy of the city’s current financial allocations. It was difficult to drag my eyes away; I wanted to touch his chest and that damn shirt he wore didn’t help. Brian had become more susceptible to designer clothing in the years since he’d met us, and the gauzy shirt he wore, something Tommy Bahama maybe, was  opened mid-way along his lean torso in subtle invitation.

I looked back to Louis. My gaze was drowsy though I was in no way tired or bored. The soft jazz that played in the background was a soundtrack that brought to mind the many times I’ve seen the two of them in an intimate embrace – mind you, not engaged in the act itself. Had they engaged? Well no shit, it’s Louis, I said to myself. Who in their right mind or otherwise wouldn’t “engage” given half a chance? I raised my brows and tilted my head the way I do when a mental dialogue is flowing.  

“Something funny, darling?” Louis asked.

“Hm?” Had I chuckled aloud at the memory? “No, nothing.” He leaned over and ran a hand down the length of my thigh as he turned his attention back toward Brian who had turned the discussion toward a movie he’d seen a few nights before that he felt had accurately portrayed the social climate he and Louis had been discussing. I followed accordingly, but what held my focus was not the plot of the film, but the pulse in his jaw when he’d pause and sit back to take in Louis’ opinions. From there I traced a line downward, following the course of the temporal artery as it ran alongside the jugular before disappearing below his collarbone.

It was time to stop such lovely self-torture so I shifted in my seat then got up and went to fiddle with the music selection as a distraction, but it didn’t really help. There might have been no telling bulge in my jeans, but mentally oh yeah, it was there.

Nights had come to pass when I’d joined Louis in serving and receiving the sweetest of pleasures with Brian, but to have him to myself… ah, that had not yet happened despite a few intense encounters. There was the time I’d returned home near delirious in the swoon of blood from a social gathering that began in snobbery and ended in orgiastic delights. I’d stumbled in, bracing myself against the wall in the narrow hallway between the kitchen and front rooms. “Lestat are you alright?” He’d said, still naïve at that point to what such an intake of blood would render. “No,” I’d said in a drawn out way along with what for me was most drunken laughter, “I’m quite  not alright. Why don’t you see for yourself?” With that, I’d pressed innocent, concerned Brian against the wall and held his face with one hand. I’d parted his thighs with my knee… and inhaled slowly along his jawline while offering a deliberately slow rub on the front of his well-worn jeans: The shudder it evoked had played in my mind for nights to come. That night I would say my tease and retreat had left us each wanting more but predictably I had exorcised those desires with Louis’ legs wrapped around my waist long into the dawn.  As I feigned an interest now in the selection of classic vinyl we’d amassed, the memory was hard to shake.

I thought about announcing that I was going out for a walk or better yet, just taking my leave. It wouldn’t have caused surprise or concern. I was as Louis often and so fondly described me, mercurial and prone to impulse. Riled as I was, several little drinks wouldn’t have brought relief. I needed something more immediate.  “I think… ah, we should go to bed.” I said as I leaned over Louis’ shoulder from behind the couch. He glanced at me and I nodded without further insinuation. It may have been for that reason that he tipped his head back to look at me with a slightly puzzled expression as he ran a hand up my arm. “I’m just ready to stretch out beside you my love.”

He didn’t question this, and Brian with the discrete nature he’d long since developed, simply smiled without question or objection. He enjoyed our companionship to be sure, but even more substantial was the self-deferment he demonstrated for Louis coupled with his reverence for the bond he was so singularly able to discern. I suspect this wider view was facilitated by the blood-sharing Louis had allowed. From his mind I easily caught a glimpse of the passion he presumed we were off to begin. It was an understandably foregone conclusion but as Louis rose and took my hand, I felt a love for him that could and often was affirmed by the simple and perfect contour of our bodies against one another when the sunrise forced us to surrender those passions to the dawn.

We said goodnight and headed up to the expansive comfort of our chambers.  A few nights ago, Louis had purchased handmade candles from a vendor in the Square and they perfumed the air perfectly; I hadn’t been able to guess the fragrance and he wouldn’t reveal it. Such little things as this were part of the normalcy of our life together in times when our love was uncomplicated by incidental dramas, largely of my creation. I wonder on occasion how people script us in their minds: Do they believe we strip out of our clothing as fast as we can and jump on one another like horny monkeys? Alright, sometimes we do, I’ll admit, but most often there is again that quiet normalcy that could make for a pretty boring novel, though we cherish the peace for as long as it may last.

As Louis undressed in the candlelight, I watched from the bed. “That was an interesting conversation you two were having.  Sometimes I think Brian ought to put his name into the hat for Mayor.”

“There’s good reason for his fervor. You already know our money lines some pretty deep pockets in the region. His interest and interactions serve to protect that money and see that it goes even further. Without his reconnaissance, you’d have been out a few thousand to the likes of John David Parker in case you’ve forgotten.”

He sat beside me and I pulled his hair back and smoothed it gently against his back. “No, I remember the whole mess and yes, the Intel saved my ass.”

“It saved your investment dollars – your ass was secure the whole time.”

“Oh, and aren’t you glad it was?” I asked as he moved up toward the pillows.

“Delighted,” he said with a little laugh as he slipped under the sheets. “And speaking of that, you had a few dark delights playing through your mind tonight, didn’t you?” His fingers moved along the satin edge of the duvet as he spoke. “You have so many tells my love; Brian might not see them but I’ve cataloged all of them.”

I turned half around on the bed. “All of them?” I repeated. “You’re sure not even one or two has escaped your observation?”  He shook his head slowly with a knowing, playful expression on his beautiful face. I started to crawl toward him, provoked as surely as he’d known I would be by his subtle teasing. “Well then you are just too interested in me, I’d say.”

“Think of it as research. I might just write another book about you.”

When I paused mid-crawl he pulled at his lips to suppress a laugh but it was futile. He leaned forward and pulled me by the arms until I fell against his chest. “That look was priceless.”

I tweaked his nipple and the easy laughter was replaced with a pleasured inhalation.  “Smartass.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Now we’re back to asses. I think you should go see how Brian’s ass is doing. I’m sure there’s more than one itch that needs to be scratched tonight.”

I sat up and assured him my interest was not in scratching. He offered a salacious smile as his eyes met mine.

“By all means my love, do enjoy.”


	2. Chapter 2

There are times when subtlety and leisurely undressing lends to the overall experience, but it was already past one in the morning and I had no plans for smug seduction. Louis watched from the bed as I shed my clothing and slipped into a vintage robe. He still wore that slightly amused expression. It was a look that said he was wickedly aware of just what he was doing in giving his blessing on such action, a look that said he’d sensed my hunger for Brian all night, and a look that said more than anything, that his own arousal was piqued by all this knowledge and that he would relish the experience vicariously. Before I left, I bent to kiss him and the aura of his desire was enough that I might have laid any other intent aside to drawn forth and disappear into the magic we created. He knew I’d feel just that and so pulled back to give a nod and a wave, telling me to go. I kissed his cheek once more and headed for the cottage.

With the double townhouses, the lot we have is close to being the length of an entire block and while by my observations that isn’t as big in New Orleans as in other places, it is downright uncommon in this city. The dwelling Brian called home upon our property had once served as servant’s quarters as one can routinely find. Louis had overseen extensive renovation and while it was still a small space, it did not lack for one modern convenience. I let myself in and stood for a moment to take in not only the sight of little things that comprised his life in this place, but the scent of that life in the air. From his bedroom I could see the warm, multi-hued glow cast by the Tiffany lamp Louis bought him a few years back at Rau’s. I waited for a minute but saw no shadows in the light: There came the sound of music and as I followed it into the room the steam the escaped above the bathroom door revealed his location.

I took a seat in the well-worn leather chair near the bedside table. There was an odd harmony in the furnishings of this place or rather the mish-mash was in keeping with the complexity of the resident himself. The peacock lamp was stunning and I ran one finger around the stained glass circles on the shade. The legend of Juno and Argus came to mind: From Juno’s creation the bird was said to have possessed the eyes of the stars, the Vault of Heaven on its magnificent feathers.  Lost in the beautiful imagery the myth evoked and the rich, lustrous color of the glass, I didn’t even notice when the music ceased.

“Oh Lestat.. Hey I didn’t know…,” Brian said just short of being startled as he stepped into the room wearing only a towel around his waist. “I eh, wait, let me…” He stepped back over the threshold to reach behind the door where a long plush robe hung. What he did not do is take his eyes off me.

I held up one finger and shook my head slowly as a little smile began to form. With minimal effort and unnatural speed I was at his side with one hand on his arm. “You’re already wearing too much.” I drew him out and instantly recognized the scent of juniper and citrus:  Louis had the same soap and to me it smelled good enough to eat or at the very least… taste.

He started to speak, perhaps to ask if I was in need of something or slide into nervous chatter when realized the answer to such a question was already obvious. Again he spoke my name but this time it was with a mixture of fascination and the understanding of why I was moving him in a slow dance up against the wall.

“Louis saw my desire for you the whole time we were in the parlor. I wonder if you saw me looking at you. Now you know I do try to be discreet, but all I could think about was a scene very much like the one we are  having now-- you, barely covered and ready for the taking.”

“When you get a look  in your eyes it’s safer for me not to notice.” He said quietly as he turned his head.  “And I’ve heard that you are always the very picture of discretion.”

“Touché.” I acknowledged his little bon mot. “But you  _ did _ notice...” His skin was warm and damp and I ran one finger down to the hem of the towel where it held snug against the definition of his abdomen. I drew in a slow, deep breath along his neck. What came next was inevitable:  At the curve just above his collarbone I pierced the flesh and drank. Rich and warm the blood flowed into my mouth, full of his own desire and yet… something that felt for a moment like a dream. Instead of chasing the mystery, I paused and looked into his eyes. He uttered a soft sound and gripped a handful of my hair and to my surprise the other moved my hand from the edge of the towel to  press it against the hardness beneath.

“You don’t play fair,” he said in staggered breaths.

Fear and lust both operate on adrenalin, co-existing for human preservation on both ends of the spectrum. I let out a little laugh at his words, because in them was the boldness of lust masking the logic of innate fear. Well bravo and encore: I took him into my arms and gracefully turned him around and down onto his bed. “I always play fair, Brian. Give and take you know.” I unfastened the knot from my robe and let it fall away as he stared. His strong heartbeat was a primitive invitation. “I just shouldn’t have waited so long to make the first move.” I said with genuine amusement as I moved onto the bed and straddled his legs. Away came the towel and I ran my hands along his hips, trailing my nails lightly as he arched his back. I eased downward, too tempted to resist what waited to be touched. I ran my hand lightly along the length, teasing not encircling … and he wanted more. It was impossible not to hear his mind asking for my touch. I held him then and thoroughly enjoyed the gasp he produced when I lowered my mouth carefully to meet the circle of my fingers. Alright yes,  _ that _ wasn’t playing fair.

He let out my name in a stutter, but the only response I gave was to pull up enough to move my tongue just under and then around the sensitive head before easing down once more. I could already taste the reward, indefinable by any one adjective. Again I moved upward and held him so I could collect the opalescent nectar in as he watched, knowing how much a part of pleasure that visual aspect presented. I turned to face him and he shook his head and released a gusty exhale to clear his head. Slowly I traversed his chest, pausing to suck at his nipples while I stroked him upward and traced the sculpted curve with the slipperiness beneath my thumb.

Inching below his jaw... ah but I could nestle indefinitely in the warmth as the pulse drummed so near the surface. There was nothing more I wanted until I kissed him. There are no words to adequately describe the way it feels to kiss a mortal; pliant, moist lips that respond so willingly, the commingled breath and the whispers for more leave me dazed not to mention the unavoidable mental buzz. My senses reeled and before I even realized it, I was piercing the flesh of his throat. Brian arched against me, hands tight on my back as he crested over the pain and I felt a wave of everything the word love might encompass. It was not delusional as love many feel in the midst of carnal pleasures – the kind that is regretted and retracted so awkwardly when the act is over. No, it was so beautiful and sincere that in that moment I wished for the ability to paint the energy in hues of scarlet and amber as they swirled into a fading, starless sky. I felt his mind even more intensely as I drank, heard him telepathically transmitting his pleasure and in answer, no…  I paused to listen and feel as it came again, calling me as seductively as the blood itself. Fascinated, I traced my tongue along the wound to sustain the flow and narrow my focus until it became wonderfully clear that Louis was not simply receiving Brian’s impassioned thoughts, he was actually there, interacting, grooving on the rush with all trace of our usual mind-sharing barrier removed. When I once more latched on, it was at once Louis and Brian that sustained me, and at once both of them that shuddered and climaxed from the rhythm of my hand.

Against Brian’s neck I slowed and kissed the wound until barely a trace of it was visible. He moaned softly and turned inwardly to wrap an arm around my neck. “Did you… he was there…”

“Yes,” I assured him, the word drawn out and slow against his ear. “So beautiful…” I said to describe the experience and both of them in turn, but there was something else that begged for my attention. I moved down as I had before, his hand trailing drowsy against my back. Upon the tan plateau of his belly spread the evidence of his release. The scent woke a different hunger and my tongue snaked through the silver-white strands as though they were sacrificial wine for the Gods.

Just as I took in the last bit of that delicacy while Brian regained his senses, I heard the door close downstairs. Before I could even think that it was him, there stood Louis at the end of the bed, physically present yes, as naked as I’d left him in our room and quite obviously primed for action.

“Oh… yes.” My words were tinged with dark amusement. “Now the party can really begin.” I moved over Brian again and arched backward in invitation.

“Louis…” Brian rasped as he extended his hand. His need was a palpable energy that moved through and past me.

But the intent in those green eyes set romance aside as he climbed onto the bed behind me. Roughly he grabbed a handful of my hair, pushed me down against Brian’s chest and positioned himself between our legs. The next thing I felt was his hand, firmly on one cheek of my ass as he pushed toward the hip to ease his access … and then the slow penetration that left me futility struggling to bend back against him, my jaw slack, eyes closed as each nerve and synapse fired from the unexpected pleasure. Each slow thrust pushed me against Brian, and when I looked down, he met my eyes with a slow smile just he firmly handled that part of me which had been at varying degrees of attention for the last several hours.  

“Mmm,” Was the only expression that escaped me, drawn out as Louis held fast and I was helpless between their efforts;  I suppose being who and what I am I could have easily broken free, but why on earth would I want to escape such sweet torture? Louis moved both hands to my hips, pushing me forward to leverage his intrusion and afford him an enviable view. He knew I would remain as directed according to unspoken rules and if I had decided to rise up, I was certain he’d have enforced his preference. I was only too happy to oblige, not only because it brought pleasure to my beloved, but because Brian was working me so skillfully as each thrust pushed me against his hand.

How much time passed as we moved together in such a sweet cadence that blurred mind, body and spirit? Louis inside my body, moving through my mind as he leaned over and nestled under my hair for a drink, Brian feeling the both of us as we soared on the decadent heights of our union, and feeling Louis too, inside his mind, feeling him as though he was no longer himself, but melded with Louis to feel everything in tandem. It was surreal, dreamy hot intensity and the breaking point rushed forth like a rogue wave.

Rules be damned, I bent backward and was granted a snarl against my ear. The electricity traveled from all points in the immediate universe to that central point of my body as I moved against the friction. Pressed in between the immediacy of my lovers, every point of contact pushed me toward the inevitable and as it came, as I moved and tightened beneath him, I pulled Louis into the swift current until he rode me hard toward some escape, his breath ragged with need.

The room seemed to dissolve and which of us cursed or where the guttural cry emanated was unimportant as Louis owned me completely; His hands locked onto the curve of my ass as he found completion and I erupted against the heated sweat of Brian’s belly as it heaved beneath me.

And with that there were a few minutes for each of us when consciousness was more a concept than reality. Close as I was, I heard Brian struggling to breathe against our weight and shifted to the side with Louis still lying against my back. With the change in position disengagement was unavoidable, and my beautiful one moved against my side to stroke my hair as I faced Brian who was overwhelmed and exhausted. The irregularity of his breathing drew my concern and I propped up on my elbow to search his face. When he looked at me I held back a gasp that would have told Louis there was unmistakably something wrong. Instead, I moved slowly once more to the original point astride Brian – only this time I leaned down not with seductive intent but deliberate care.

“Brian?” I took his face in my hand. “Come on now, breathe, nice and slow, that’s it, come back to us.” He turned his head with my direction but his focus went past my face and landed somewhere on the ceiling. No, no, that was no good. I waited a few seconds and debated the next course of action; With a slight pull at the corner of my lips that was gone as fast as it appeared, I heard the old adage of ‘no harm, no foul’ in my mind and bit deeply into my wrist. He’d tasted my blood if you could say such a thing, casually in shared interludes with Louis – tasted it on Louis even, but this was different. I watched as  it fell in thick, heavy droplets against his mouth, each drop creating a spatter of modern art until he drew in a sharp breath as he realized the offertory.

“Lestat…”

“Ssh,” I calmed him. “Just enough to restore.” With a nod I let him pull my wrist in and drink. The gesture drew forth memories that could never be diminished and I felt a bittersweet smile for the moment that was only assuaged when Brian actually looked at me, actually saw me and regained the light in his eyes. “Better, yes?”

“Better, yes.” He affirmed, though even those two words took effort.

We studied one another for several silent seconds. “I love you, you know.” It was an unexpected confession, perhaps more because prior announcements were wrapped in humor or sarcasm as we played off of one another. This one brought tears to his eyes, and I felt momentarily helpless as they shone in the dim light of the room. I leaned down and collected him in my arms, murmuring soft reassurance as he quieted and at last, kissing his forehead as the exhaustion dragged him into a sleep that would likely last through the daylight hours tomorrow if not longer. I smoothed the hair away from his eyes and looked over to Louis who had watched the whole transaction with absorbed fascination.

“I love that you love him.” He said in a sleepy, grateful voice as I eased across and behind him to stretch out and mold the contours of our bodies together.

“I meant it.”

“Understood.”

The brevity of our words underscored our own vital expenditures. I draped my arm across his waist and we fell asleep for a little over an hour. The blue-green glow on Brian’s clock read five forty-two when I was gently roused by him turning in toward my chest.

“Louis, come now, let’s leave Brian to a decent recovery.” He mumbled against my throat, being as usual most difficult to wake. “Louis?” I pestered him until he pulled back with a scornful furrow of his brows before nestling against me once more. He had effectively hit the snooze button and I had no choice but to allow him another five minutes. When he stirred, I was rewarded with soft, enticing kisses upward to my ear.

“Alright then, let’s retreat.” He said as he slid down the length of Brian’s bed and pulled me by the hand.

The clock read six twenty-eight, and daylight begged on the horizon. Before we left, I remembered my robe and took a look back at Brian. His color was normal again and to say he looked peaceful was an understatement. What strangeness it must be for him to live this life, and yet it was normal in a way none of us could have scripted.

“Lestat?” Louis called from the doorway, his tone somewhat impatient as he looked toward the already brightening sky. 

“Just making a last check of things, cranky baby. Come on, let’s go.” I took his hand and led the way toward the security of our suite and the sanctity of slumber that left us as oblivious to the world as it was to the two of us in our time and space.


	3. Chapter 3

(Brian)

 

A bright band of late afternoon sun striped the far wall across from the bed. I gazed at it with unfocused eyes,tracing the simmering surge of Lestat’s blood still ricocheting through my body. That delicious surge was infinitely distracting, beckoning me toward the semi-sleep that had claimed me for most of the day. I must have dozed again because when I opened my eyes again, the band of sunlight was gone and the room was a dim, pearlescent grey.

Sleep had fallen away, clarity returning with an astonishing suddenness, illuminating memory to a nearly painful sharpness. Had I been dying even in the grip of that rolling, intense pleasure? Could that be? It could.  I had been unable to catch my breath and then...and then, Lestat opening his wrist, as though seen from a distance, almost  _ too  _ far away before being drawn back with sort of psychic slam, a moment later my mouth  latched onto the flowing font of his wrist, sucking the glorious, thick richness and following his voice back out of the terrifying dimness.

I rolled to my side, breathing in shallow bursts, images cascading, each memory distinct and unbearably erotic; his mouth at my throat, the sharp crest of pain, soothed immediately by the alchemy of his vampire gifts, his beauty, perfect, killer ( _ killer?) _ smile. It’s different with him, I thought; Lestat is a force of nature, a storm to Louis’s calm tranquility ( _ ah, but he’s not always calm, not always tranquil is he). _

When he drew me close my hands trembled to touch his flesh, the muscles of his chest, his sensitive nipples, the taut, banded muscles of his belly. Shifting, oceanic eyes; god, he was so fierce and in that moment his face lost some of the essential humanity.  I knew I was seeing the essential vampire in those moments--another spill of adrenaline and the expression fled as quickly as it had appeared. His kiss stemmed a shiver of violent trembling.  

The moment seemed to stretch, fathomless and silent until he began exploring my mouth, seeking and finding my mind; there Lestat met Louis on the bridge of my thoughts. His complete and utter delight at realizing the vicarious pleasure Louis experienced along with me swept through me like a gust of freshening wind. I heard myself groan aloud in the silent room.

When I sat up, I felt light and strong, depleted and filled at the same time. Dehydrated, yeah, and when I moved, the awakening of a roaring need for food; the fullness, though, that was in my heart. I caught a glimpse  of myself in the mirror, smiling a  little at the picture I presented, particularly the acute case of bedhead; the smile dissolved, replaced by the fascination at the slight bruising still evident on my neck and throat and the sensation of the  damage beneath my skin still busily being restored. They could mindshare through me I thought. The idea of it was inclusive and warm and very satisfying.

They are, of course, amazing to humans  _ (stand not amazed, romeo, the prince will doom thee to death),  _ it’s why Louis feels the need to be careful of me, a thing I cherish; he feels that in their presence, overwhelming as it can be, humans don’t have much of a chance at any sort of resistance. He has said that he remembers that feeling quite well, the feeling of giving over and never mind that he had been offered a choice. 

“ _ I had a choice, Lestat said it and I had to tell him what I wanted:, but you see, Brian, for me there really was no choice but the one I made.” _

I suppose it’s true that it’s easy to succumb to them, but it’s also true that we’re also pretty good at adapting and adjust the way we think once something is accepted as a truth.

*****

When I got out of the shower, Louis was seated in the same chair Lestat had occupied the night before, rising when I came through the door and I went to him wordlessly while, feeling his mind search mine for any sense of pain or discomfort even as his hands roamed my skin, feeling the places that were healing, the fading bruises and the sprung rib on my right side. 

“I’m fine, Louis.” He took my face in his two hands and looked deeply into my eyes, releasing me only when he was satisfied that the discomfort I felt was minimal. His mouth pressed to mine in a gentle kiss and then stepped back with a beatific smile. 

“You’d better get dressed, sweeting. Lestat will be here at any moment. He’s gone to oversee the preparation of restorative meal for you..” His eyes caught mine; he tried control it, but it was too late, and we succumbed to a small storm of  laughter.

“Woe to the chef.” I said, trying to catch my breath. He handed me a pair of jeans and I stepped into them.

“He’ll hover, but he understands that Chef Scanio knows your tastes.”

“DelMonico’s,” I said appreciatively, shrugging into the deep blue shirt he’d chosen. He stood  before me, fastening the buttons and teasing my skin with the brush of his knuckles as he went. “You are in need of nourishment. You had quite a night of it yesterday.”

“Louis? Last night.  Last night was...” I gestured helplessly, at a sudden loss for words when his eyes met mine. 

“I know, my Brian. There are many things that I love about you. Your sharp mind and your sense of humor. That scruff of beard you have this evening,” he rubbed his cheek across my jaw and teased my lips with his. “Your loyalty. You have given me a something beyond price, you know.”

“Have I?” I was mesmerized by him. 

“You understand the gift Lestat has given you. You know what it means to me that you realize it and I love you for that.”

The door opened and Lestat called out to come downstairs.

*****

Dinner was served outside, mellow jazz playing through the outdoor system, Wes Montgomery’s  _ In Your Own Sweet Way _ . The steak was perfectly done, the rarer side of medium rare. The bloody juices were especially delicious on my tongue, and  I reported this matter-of-factly as I ate. About half way through the meal Lestat excused himself and went back to the townhouse, returning a few minutes later carefully cradling  a bottle of wine from their small but exquisite collection. 

“Louis, if you would do the honors?” He said. Louis took the bottle gently and reach for the corkscrew. Glimpsing the label, I put my fork down.

“Oh, no, Lestat...that’s not necessary…”   
  
It was a 1982 Chateau Lafite-Rothschild, one of a case in original tissue that they’d had in their possession for years. A fine, fine vintage, the case worth over a million dollars. They don’t drink wine of course, but both know a good deal about it, especially Louis - his father’s family came from near Pauillac in the  Médoc region. 

“Nonsense,” he said. “I’m not certain what this sort of occasion might be named, but certainly last night is something to be marked. This is a remarkable wine, meant to be savored,  not to sit forever in suspension. Best drunk before 2022, I believe. We cannot, so you will have to suffer through it.”

He and Louis had dressed the table that sat to one side of the steps to my little home with a quirky elegance - mismatched, but beautiful china, real silver. Candles flickered in the vaguely medieval-looking floor candelabra set at one end of the table and as Louis drew the cork and set the wine down to breathe, I was flooded with a warm sense of enclosure. 

The light glinted in the pale gold strands of Lestat’s hair and he leaned on his elbows to sniff at the wine. Louis calls him angel. In this setting I can see it absolutely, right down to a mirage of gold behind him, the impression of great, golden wings His contentment radiated within the circle of light that surrounded us. Lestat’s mood affected Louis deeply: to see Lestat basking in this way pleased him inordinately. To see this peace between them affected me as well; I wished this night to stay with them as a reminder of what they meant to each other.

Lestat’s low chuckle pulled me from my reverie. “Are you going to finish that, Brian?” 

“Oh, yes. Just a little rest, yeah? It melts in your mouth, but it’s still a lot of steak.” I told him. 

He smiled and settled back in his chair, regarding us benevolently. “No rush, of course. Tell me how you are feeling. No ill effects? I deeply apologize for nearly killing you last night.”

“No harm done, “ I said with a smile. “I had every faith in you. ”

He nodded, pleased with my answer. “Louis, pour the wine if you please. I would like Brian’s opinion.”

Louis did and took a long, open-mouthed sniff. “Elegant,” he pronounced wistfully. “The scent makes me think I could almost taste it...alas that such things are not ours to enjoy.”

I am no sommelier, but I know a little bit about wine at this point. This one was stunning, even to my palate, which I expect is changing a bit. Deep garnet, this wine was a rhapsody -  silky ripe tannins and a lovely fruity finish. I tasted herbs, lavender and mint mostly, with complex cherry and blueberry notes and something earthy like mushrooms.  I described it as best I could to them, drinking it with vast enjoyment.

Lestat poured a small amount into a glass and sniffed it appreciatively.

“Can you really not taste it at all?” This baffled me. It always has.

He sipped it. “Nothing,” he sighed and then his smile turned sly. “Perhaps I can  savor it another way?”

Delicious shiver and I met his summer eyes, clear of storms or sadness at this moment. “I’d better drink up, then.”

“Oh, yes.” Louis said. His eyes had gone smoky, but he was still pragmatic. “As long as you finish your steak.”

“No rush.” Lestat said again, but this time his voice was lazy-sexy. He ran his hand slowly across his flat belly. The music segued into  _ Black Coffee,  _ and I wondered how much of this Lestat had engineered.

“Most of it, probably.” Louis murmured. He licked his lips.

It looked like I was in for another interesting night.


End file.
